


Lines and Planes

by anaideia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airplanes, Fear of Flying, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Subtle Pining, Travel, tall people problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 02:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaideia/pseuds/anaideia
Summary: Oikawa looked out the window and sighed. “You know we were only here a few days but I feel strangely connected to this place. Do you think we’ll ever be back?”“I don’t know. Your life is too unpredictable.”Oikawa looked pensive. “I’m sorry. Your life would be easier if it weren’t for me, hm?”





	Lines and Planes

“They announced priority boarding a few minutes ago. You should go to the bathroom.”

Oikawa peeled his eyes away from his tablet, on which he was watching a video of a volleyball match from the Italian SuperLega. “What was that, Iwa-chan?” 

Oikawa could get frighteningly focused on things if left to his own devices for too long. Iwaizumi used to text him the night before important volleyball matches to remind him to go to bed, lest he stay up analyzing videos until morning, unaware of the moon rising and falling in the night sky or Iwaizumi fast asleep in the house three doors over. Sometimes Iwaizumi wondered if he weren’t around to pull Oikawa out of the volleyball spell, if Oikawa would forget about him entirely.

Oikawa noticed the families lining up at the gate. “Oh, we’re boarding soon.” In two bounding steps he was disappearing into the crowd, calling back to Iwaizumi, “Watch my things. I’ll be right back. And don’t eat all my snacks!”

They had both used the restroom less than thirty minutes prior, but Oikawa detested plane bathrooms, so he took no chances. Iwaizumi didn’t particularly enjoy using airplane lavatories either –they were loud and small and it was impossible to avoid touching questionable surfaces– but Oikawa’s hatred of them was on another level. “Those toilets,” he had said gravely. “Where do they get such powerful toilets?” It was such a ridiculous question that Iwaizumi had had no answer. “Exactly. If you ask me, I think they’re portals to the void.”

The gate attendant announced their boarding group while Oikawa was gone. Iwaizumi folded the protective case over Oikawa’s tablet screen and slipped it into Oikawa’s backpack, which was indeed full of foreign snacks. He slung one backpack over each shoulder and then picked up their shared suitcase, filled mostly with Oikawa’s things: travel sized cosmetics he couldn’t go three days without, a selfie stick, clothes he hadn’t worn and more, all packed impressively compactly to make space for the food and souvenirs they had acquired during their journey. Iwaizumi stood near the end of the line to board the plane, waiting for his companion’s return.

\--

They boarded the plane, found their row, and sat down without much thought, guided by familiarity. Their seats were near the front of the economy section on the port side of the aircraft, separated from the middle seats by a walkway. Oikawa sat first, taking the window seat. Iwaizumi stowed their carry on in the overhead compartment lamenting its weight, then followed, sliding into the aisle seat. Oikawa already had his tablet and headphones out.

The flight was around four hours long and Iwaizumi planned to sleep through most of it, though it was mid-afternoon. Oikawa on the other hand was a finicky sleeper and found it difficult both to sleep on planes and to sleep midday (or in the evening for that matter), so he always brought something to do. In addition to the Italian volleyball games, he appeared to have also downloaded gameplay footage from a recent practice game. Every so often, he paused to take notes in a pocket-sized spiral notepad.

Iwaizumi scrolled through some of the pictures they had taken, messaged his parents an estimated time of arrival, and turned off his phone, content to watch the emergency procedures demonstration video playing on the large screen at the front of the center section.

When the aircraft began to speed up for take off, Oikawa started up a conversation about something or another. He always prepared an interesting tidbit to distract Iwaizumi during takeoff and landing. Iwa-chan, what’s your favorite brand of box curry? I like Java. Medium hot! If you put some apples in it, it tastes almost as good as Auntie Tajima’s from back home. Iwa-chan, did you hear about the gorilla that knew sign language? She even taught it to a baby gorilla! That gorilla was probably a better teacher than you.

“Iwa-chan, if you got stuck in the rain, would you run or walk to shelter?”

“Run, obviously. Why would anyone walk?”

“I read that if you run, you might run into more water droplets and get more wet.”

“Wouldn’t it depend on a lot of things like what direction the rain is falling? And if you walk and the rain gets worse, you’d end up getting more wet too.” 

“Oh, that’s true. And running is healthy!”

“Just do what feels right. It’s not worth thinking about too hard.” 

“Aww, poor Iwa-chan just doesn’t want to use his brain.”

“Shut up. I’m just saying you don’t have to do everything perfectly. Sometimes what you have is good enough.”

“It’s hard to be satisfied. I don’t know how you can be.” Oikawa looked out the window and sighed. “You know we were only here a few days but I feel strangely connected to this place. Do you think we’ll ever be back?”

“I don’t know. Your life is too unpredictable.”

Oikawa looked pensive. “I’m sorry. Your life would be easier if it weren’t for me, hm?”

“Don’t apologize for stupid things. Let me watch that game.”

Oikawa unlatched the seat-back table in front of him and propped his tablet up on its folding case, angling the screen slightly toward Iwaizumi. 

“Hey, that was a piss poor serve. What were you doing?”

“I won’t let you watch if you’re just going to mock me!” Oikawa pulled the screen back toward himself. 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, fine.” Oikawa said, and made a grand gesture of setting the tablet closer to Iwaizumi. “Out of the goodness of my heart, I will give you a second chance.”

So they watched, rally after rally, making a comment here and there, discussing such and such strategy until a flight attendant approached asking if they’d like a snack and anything to drink.

“I’ll have water. Thank you.” Iwaizumi said.

“I’m fine, thanks,” said Oikawa flashing a smile.

While the flight attendant poured water, Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa. “You should ask for water. It’s easy to get dehydrated on a plane.”

“Here you are.” The flight attendant handed Iwaizumi a cup of water, and presented each of them with a shiny packet of rice crackers and a napkin. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Did you want a glass of water?” the flight attendant asked. “Your friend is right.”

“I’m okay for now, but it was very kind of you to ask.” 

The flight attendant’s smile seemed to turn into something more genuine, then. “It’s no problem. Feel free to ask if you change your mind later.” 

The flight attendant moved on and Oikawa replied to Iwaizumi, “I have a full water bottle. No need to worry about me, mom.”

“Says the person who forgot to pack socks.”

“Sometimes mistakes happen for a reason. If I hadn’t forgotten them, I would never have gotten these adorable Godzilla socks.” Oikawa lifted his leg and rolled up the leg of his track pants to show Iwaizumi the grey socks dotted with little green Godzillas he had purchased at the mall on their second day. “Come on, Iwa-chan. I know you like them.”

It was true.

\--

It started with a light jostle. Then a large jerk nearly pushed Iwaizumi into Oikawa. A sudden drop, and Iwaizumi’s stomach did a flip. Oikawa folded up the seat-back table, and continued to watch holding his tablet in hand. The pilot’s voice came on over the intercom, apologizing for the rough weather and instructing all passengers to remain seated with seatbelts fastened. Iwaizumi gripped the armrests on each side of him a little tighter. Another drop lifted him off of his seat, stomach pushing against the seatbelt. He hated this, being blown about by forces he couldn’t see and couldn’t do anything about.

It wasn’t that he was particularly afraid of flying, only that turbulence was an undeniable reminder of the fact that he and everyone else on the plane were trapped in a tiny vessel thousands and thousands of feet in the air and that if anything went horribly wrong – small as the chances may be, it was still possible – they would all find themselves plummeting to a fiery end, powerless against their fates.

Iwaizumi’s face was mostly placid save a slight tension in his jaw, but Oikawa, ever aware, rested a steady hand on Iwaizumi’s arm and held it there until the winds passed.

“Don’t worry.” Oikawa said. “Flying is way safer than driving and you do that every day. Besides, even if we do die, at least you’ll get to spend your last moments with me.”

Exasperation was a powerful counter to fear.

“That sounds awful. Who would want that?”

“Well, if I had to pick one person to be stuck on a deserted island with, I would pick you.”

“I would pick a survival expert, which you clearly aren’t.”

“That’s cold, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa wrapped his arms around himself and shivered dramatically. “Brr.”

\--

The seatbelt light turned off, accompanied by a polite message from the pilot informing the passengers of such. Wordlessly, Oikawa unbuckled his seatbelt, and lifted the armrest between the seats. He slipped off his shoes, turned so his back was against the window, and shifted diagonally to stretch his legs straight in the space in front of Iwaizumi’s seat. Then he lifted his legs to bend them over Iwaizumi’s lap, feet pressed against the outer armrest.

And though he considered that some other passengers might find Oikawa’s actions rude, Iwaizumi didn’t complain. Six cursed centimeters shorter, and less leggy in proportion, Iwaizumi had ceded all of his personal space over the years to Oikawa’s subtle pushing of boundaries. First, there were little feet pushing nine-year-old Iwaizumi into a tiny corner of the couch. Then, a curious hand finding its way into Iwaizumi’s lunchbox, reaching a sausage before Iwaizumi’s chopsticks did. Limbs kicking Iwaizumi’s side in the middle of the night during training camp. A long torso leaning over him to look out the window of the shinkansen (“Don’t offer me the window seat next time if you’re just going to do this.”).

Iwaizumi adjusted a bit, leaned his head back, and fell into a light slumber, lulled by the muted voices of the other passengers and the steady hum of the aircraft.

\--

Iwaizumi woke to the sudden movement of Oikawa reaching for his bag. Iwaizumi opened his eyes and glanced over to see Oikawa pressing a bloody airline napkin to his nose and hurriedly attempting to search through his backpack with the other hand.

“Which dumbass did I just remind to stay hydrated on the flight today?” Iwaizumi sighed and took the backpack from Oikawa, finding the tissues buried at the bottom of the front pocket. He removed one tissue from the plastic packet and handed it to Oikawa who reached for it with a slightly bloodied hand. “Hey, careful. Don’t get any on me.”

“You could have some sympathy, Iwa-chan.”

“No sympathy for people who don’t heed good advice.” He closed his eyes before Oikawa could reply, but still laid a hand on Oikawa’s bad knee, massaging it absent-mindedly. Oikawa never complained about the old injury, but Iwaizumi could tell that sometimes it still bothered him. It was precisely because Oikawa never complained of his injuries that Iwaizumi had to be the one to stop him from pushing too hard. He learned to see the little signs: the bulge of a knee brace under his jeans during cold weather, a wince on an awkward landing, the nearly imperceptible limp on a bad day. 

Tooru’s knee should be getting sore by now, Iwaizumi thought. More than once, he had woken to Oikawa stretching and rubbing his knee with a sour look on his face.

Oikawa stretched his legs out again, and then slipped his feet between Iwaizumi’s legs to rest them underneath Iwaizumi’s thigh. 

“Your feet are cold,” Iwaizumi remarked without opening his eyes.

“That’s why I have Iwa-chan to toast them up for me. Lucky I have such a warm friend!”

Iwaizumi smiled at that. “I’m not your personal heater,” he retorted, without much bite.

He fell asleep this way, legs entangled, Oikawa to his left, watching a volleyball game flash by on his tablet screen with great intensity. Ten thousand feet in the air, held aloft by physics he didn’t understand, and sitting next to a bleeding obsessive man, Iwaizumi found himself feeling inexplicably, consummately, comfortable.

He remembered one of the first times he and Oikawa had traveled together. They were in their first year of university, and winter vacation had just begun. Oikawa led Iwaizumi through a mess of bus and subway transfers, and then in the midnight hours of Friday evening, the two of them boarded a fully booked highway bus bound from Shinjuku, Tokyo to Sendai. Peculiarly, Oikawa who must have been exhausted from long nights of studying, fell asleep first, head resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

“Iwa-chan, your shoulder is too bony.” Oikawa had complained, with the mumbled sweetness of somnolence.

“Put your head somewhere else, then.”

“Mm.”

And then Oikawa was asleep, soft and childlike, reminding Iwaizumi so much of the lanky little boy who used to fall asleep on Iwaizumi’s arm or his stomach or his bed. Except now that boy was much larger, easily too broad for his seat, lean frame finally bulking into a man’s musculature, knees jutting to either side and into Iwaizumi’s space to avoid pushing against the seats in front of them. Iwaizumi wondered at the contradiction, how such a large body could seem so needing of protection.

Iwaizumi tilted his head to rest on Oikawa’s. He felt the other stiffen for a moment and then relax again, letting out a small sigh. Oikawa’s curls tickled his ear, energetic and fine and a little oily from a long day of exams and travel. He breathed in, smelling lychee-scented lotion, floral shampoo, sweat, and natural musk. He breathed it all in, leaning into the steady rhythm set by the man at his side, letting it guide him instinctively to sleeping. 

And if, between them, their fingers had brushed in promise of entwinement, there were no open eyes on that bus to judge.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first Haikyu!! fic, and thanks to the Haikyu!! fandom for inspiring me to write fanfiction for the first time in three years. I would love and appreciate any comments! I would especially like advice on tags, as I previously used ff.net.
> 
> Oh and as for the 6 centimeter difference, I decided that Iwaizumi stopped growing at his official height of 179.3 cm, and Oikawa who is 184.3 in the series, grew around another centimeter.


End file.
